A Commonsensical Reason
by The-Music-of-hands
Summary: In which Vincent intakes a rather large amount of alcohol and Yuffie learns that even the most logical people can be irrational. -Yuffie-Vincent-


_**Disclaimer: I'm too damn cool to own it.**_

_A/N_

_The result of too much coffee and sugar, sappy chick flicks, and Christmas Spirit Overload. Yes, this idea isn't the most original, and the characters are totally out of character, but oh well. Everyone appreciates a bit of fluff now and then._

_TMoh_

_0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0__**A Commonsensical Reason**_

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"_There's always a reason why, but they never said it had to make sense."_

* * *

It was winter, the sky flaking specs of diminishing cloud while her short black hair bobbed along the current Christmas swarm, her shorts replaced with longer khaki's and the tank top under her vest now a striped loose knit sweater. A recent promotion present from her boss, Reeve-Mc-Peeve-Pants—thanks to her awesome naming skills.

She was just glad she could get some use out of it.

But it was damn cold outside, and she thought that she might not want to go to the bar anymore because of how bone chilling the cold was. She might just have wanted to lumber home to the old ragged hole in the wall she called an apartment, and sit dejectedly in the bathtub amidst a floating mass of lavender and champagne bubbles. Or maybe, sit in front of a nice hot fire, watching the red shadows dance mockingly against the flaking plaster wall.

Oh wait…she hated red.

She visibly cringed, swerving to the right towards "The Everyday Hero" where she planned to catch a spiked coffee, and maybe play around with the collective minds of the typical customers. Cloud never minded before, and she duly noted to him after hours that she'd seen his hand twitch, and seen his eyes wish he'd joined in on her teasing. He'd patted her head, mockingly sending her off to sleep land, and then joining Tifa in her room for some one on one conversation. She never stuck around that late anymore.

That was when the vampires came out.

All deep low voices, crimson capes, and pale smooth throats that she just wanted to clobber and kiss, kiss…oh _gawd_, she just wanted to _kiss_. That was mainly why she stayed away. But there was also the issue of her. She'd been pining after someone so long, she barely felt anything anymore. Or at least, she hated him a little more every year since she'd turned sixteen. (Not…)

She was twenty one now. And, well, he was the same as ever, tall, dark, broodingly scarlet handsome. (Damn him…)

He came out late at night, with keys of his own. He was fond of Gin and Tonic, maybe on occasion a Cinnamon Twist which she could meanly make, thank you very much. It usually was all sweet and warm, and it crawled down your throat in those deliciously warm shivers, but didn't bite, no, never bit—not like he did—though it was unintentional on his part, she was sure, but oh hell how he bit (Which for the sole sanity of others, was completely metaphorical). Anyway, _gawd_, when he did, it hurt so bad, she thought she might need a thousand more Cinnamon Twists before she could forget why she was ever crying big wet snowflake tears in the first place.

Oh, that's right. She forgot that he was an inadvertent bastard, which in the plain run, kind-of-sort-of made things a bit difficult. Especially since the only other person who was willing to even consider her was a total arrogant womanizer—and she'd lost _plenty_ to him, thanks to her damn over eager hormones. Not that he hadn't been good looking or anything, but _gawd_, he was frickin' Reno for heaven's sake.

Anyway, she'd been an idiot. A damn big one… (Actually…he was the one with the bigger package and the smaller brains…not like she'd ever been remotely interested… No way… Well…maybe just a _little…)_

A flash of red stood in the doorway, chatting occasionally with a blonde counterpart, before a delicate eyebrow arched as she stomped to a halt in the heaping snow.

She growled, refraining the urge to bite him. (Maybe he'd turned her into the second member of his continuously growing legion of the undead… she took another quick glance. Okay, maybe the legion of the very _sexy_ undead.)

That still didn't stop him from being an ass.

A total ignorant prick: Mister _'oh! My sins have astounded me in their sintacular ways, and I must forever leech the life out of cute, adorable—not to mention totally flexible, ninja-like—girls, and then ignore their existence for the rest of my boring lifeless immortal life.'_ In which, this to her made complete yet no sense what-so-ever.

But it was a rare momentous occasion anyone ever understood her, including herself, so she really didn't worry about that one too much.

What she _did_ worry about, however, was how she was supposed to leech her way into the bar with _him_ standing right in front of her, that damn red cloak covering his mouth. His cheeks betrayed him—because she knew him better than anyone at that point—and he was smirking, if not chuckling amusedly. Oh, _damn_ him…

She whipped her nose in the other direction, successfully ignoring him for two or three seconds—though in her case, it was most likely one, because that was just how she was—and then her eyes peeked over to him again, curiously scoping out the nice edge of his jaw…

This time, his cloak shuddered, and a deep rumble was heard from his chest at a comment that Cid had thrown out, though she hadn't been paying enough attention to hear it.

Cid chuckled, slapping him heavily on the back, shooting her a wink and a suggestive hand motion before sauntering back inside, boots thundering against the wood. She flipped him the bird.

She started to swivel to the direction she had come, making the poorest attempt at snubbing since she'd turned five, and then with the loud obnoxious crunching of flakey snow, a cold hand gripped her shoulder and pulled her back. He was smiling full force now, and she suspected the tremors shaking his usually tense neck were giddy little titters—something Vincent Valentine, the vampire extraordinaire did _not_ do. Unless…unless he'd been drinking. Sniffing experimentally, she smelled the rum. He still smirked.

So she glared.

It was uncharacteristic, and she had somehow maneuvered towards the bar instead of away like she'd originally planned, and he was _smiling_, and she had no idea why on earth the _king of gothic angst_ would be _smiling_.

'_Maybe he's finally gone crazy…'_ she chortled inwardly, wishing that she'd actually remembered to bring that damn digital camera that was probably somewhere in the pantry or something.

He frowned, looking up. He was finally _frowning, thank gawd…_

'_Or…maybe not…'_

And then a large guffaw, followed by the accompaniment of many small chuckles surrounding her and him as they stood in the doorway. There was Cid chugging what seemed to be a two liter bottle of unnamable booze, Barrett with Marlene perched birdlike on his shoulders, Reeve restraining a cackling Cait Sith, and Cloud and Tifa were noticeably red lipped and laughing gaily, as if it was frickin' Christmas Eve or something.

She ran through her mental calendar.

Holy Crap, almighty leviathan! It was…

"Wonder how I missed _that_…" She mumbled more to herself than anybody, still staring at the ever so captivating peeling whitewash in the right corner of the doorway, which was probably about five inches from the glossy manes of his angelic parasitic hair. (Though, he did preen a whole lot, and he used super expensive shampoo and hair products, so it was highly unlikely that the Vampire Vinnie Man had Blood sucking parasites—mainly icky, lice, ew—besides that, who in their right mind, even a lowly bug would want to suck the blood of a vampire?)

'_Oh! Barf-o-Rama…' _

Anyway, she'd automatically turned to heatedly glower at each and every one of them, before stamping her foot childishly against the half dirt half step of the doorway. Vincent still stood by her side, eyebrows knitting in deep thought. _'Well, at least he's doing something half Vinnie-like…'_

"What the hell are you guys laughing about? Stop acting like little frickin' kids!"

Of course, her whiny voice added to the rather childlike stamping of the foot caused a few more snickers before Cloud actually cleared his throat, managing to look serious and just humored at the same time. (He always was the frickin' living contradiction…)

Cid had long thrown the bottle to the ground and was now puffing on his cigarette, taking it out every once in a while to cough, eyes still dancing. Reeve still snickered, Cait Still muffled in his weird foreign twang, and Marlene, Barrett and Tifa shared mischievous knowing smiles.

Yuffie, who was still trying to figure out what the hell they were all laughing about, stuck her hands on her hips, jutting her lips out in an indecent curse—which of course the first half she'd heard from Cid and the second half she'd heard from Rude, _of all people_, which made for a highly colorful and entertaining combination.

Cid tacked it up on his list of highly regarded curse words; silently thinking about the hidden meaning, Marlene was asking Reeve what the word meant, and the others basked in blissful silence, while Tifa stood aloof in silent pondering the love of her life: bird brained Cloud, while said blonde spike-head had his mouth slack in a slight bout of shock.

Yuffie felt smug. Vincent still thought about the predicament at hand—which to only Yuffie, was unknown.

And Tifa had finally decided to cease all waiting—as in some various cases (Including Cloud) she was a very patient women, but in other cases (Considering Vincent and Yuffie) she was not.

"Um…Vincent…Yuffie..." She chewed her lip, playing with the hem of her all too short ratty black vest—which Yuffie thought was too small, because her boobs just _had_ to be squished in that horrid thing. Not like she could compare, because while Tifa had luminous mountains gracing her chest, Yuffie had annoying bug bites that wouldn't even properly hold a bra. No. She wasn't jealous. She was just envious… She smacked her forehead in exasperation. _'Nice 'O Smart one. Those are the same thing…'_

Cloud nudged Tifa, mouth now closed, (Yuffie thought she might have seen a bit of drool…) and Tifa stuttered incoherently before continuing in a stable but cautious low whisper.

"You're…under the mistletoe…"

Yuffie screeched, letting loose another tightly woven yarn ball of highly praised curse words, which Cid of course tucked in his memory to use them later for various useful occasions, and Vincent rumbled wordlessly in a calm voice, staring straight at the plant placed in a cleft in the doorway. His hands twitched. Yuffie felt her mouth slightly water—he was so, oh man, oh _gawd!_ But, what if he like…sucked her blood or something… Yuffie shrugged inwardly. _'Oh well, it's worth it, not like he'll do anything…'_

But for once— well…like she usually was—Yuffie Kisaragi, was wrong, or more specifically, thought wrong. For at that very moment, Tifa had once again decided to make an attempt to repeat what had just been said, to which Vinnie replied with a sovereign growl— (meanwhile, Yuffie basked in the low voiced glory of Vincent's, _oh my gawd,_ rumbling sentence.)

"You're under the _mistletoe_," which Tifa felt needed to be stressed or else they'd be standing there all night waiting for some kind of intelligible response.

To which Vincent responded calmly, "It seems so…"

Yuffie had decided that he really _wasn't_ going to do anything, so as she prepared to tackle him, his hands had grabbed her around the waist roughly, and for a chaste ten seconds—or more like three, because she always overdid things like _that—_he had pressed his lips against hers. He let go, and she stumbled in the spot she stood, frozen in a wordless awe.

Then, he'd smirked—she never knew he actually had a sense of humor—and pushed his way through the gaping group, holding his palm out to Cid expectantly. Cid of course dug out a whole _Five Hundred Gil_, and grumbled a few of Yuffie's combined curses with expert gusto.

Yuffie stumbled in, taking deep breaths, while Reeve and Cloud laughed wholeheartedly at the wide grin spreading across her face. She almost fainted, thanking Gaia with all her heart.

'_Thank god for alcohol…'_

Outside, the snow fell.

She blushed.

He laughed.

And things couldn't have been more reversed than they were at that moment.

_0-End-0_


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